A Perilous Fixation
by AShipperWithNoLife
Summary: Ivan can't help but be consumed with guilt at the thought of eating. Nor does he enjoy the thought of being too large. As time passes by, the shame he has for his body becomes worse. Therefore, he decides to do something about that. Ivan doesn't care about what it will take to fix his body. Even if that solution could potentially lead to his own death. RusAme
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Contains depression, eating disorder, self-harm, thoughts of suicide, mentions of childhood abuse, some possible OOC, and RusAme.**

 **This is also a humanAU and collegeAU story.**

 **Lastly, why in the world would someone like me own Hetalia?**

* * *

Shame; sometimes Ivan felt as if it was the only emotion he could feel, aside from the despondency and bouts of fear he would sometimes feel as well. Yet, it still seemed to be quite powerful compared to the other two sentiments, and sometimes, he didn't even notice any other negative, yet more merciful emotions aside from the embarrassment he had for his own existence.

Happiness; what a rare emotion, or at least, to Ivan it was. He wasn't even sure if he could bring himself to appreciate such a feeling. Sure, he often desired it, and wished that it was the only thing that he could feel, but as far as he was concerned, the emotion was nothing more than a tease. When he did experience it, the sweet moments were always short-lived. When he remembered how it felt to be happy, he always ended up feeling worse. Moments full of nothing but pure glee only seemed to become more scarce for him the longer he lived. Happiness was an emotion that seemed to require too much effort to obtain, and sometimes, he didn't even think that it was worth the strain. At least when he forgot how such euphoria felt, the emotional agony became much more bearable. Almost as if it was completely normal to function in such low spirits.

Ivan certainly wasn't looking forward to college, nor was he thrilled about the fact that he would be sharing a dorm with someone he didn't even know. He was never too great around strangers. He always seemed to mess up on first impressions, due to how intimidating he always appeared to be. It wasn't his intention to be so terrifying to everyone, though. He was taller than most, and always, without even realizing it, had a tendency to act over friendly. It was to the point where he'd been labeled socially awkward, and people didn't seem to really trust him. He would always try to hide it, but it hurt to see everyone around him try their very best to avoid him; especially when he didn't even know the reason why. Perhaps some people his age wouldn't care if others didn't want to be around them. His whole life, he'd witnessed many individuals even frown upon others who showed any sign of actually _needing_ another human's companionship just to feel happy. He understood that his desire was probably just something that some people simply didn't understand, but the disapproval did make him feel a bit ashamed. He knew he shouldn't have cared, but at least it wasn't the most of his worries.

At last, after carrying his luggage through the late summer's sun, and taking some time out of his day to search for his dorm, Ivan had finally found the room he was staying in. As soon as he entered his destination, he couldn't help but be filled with irritation when he was immediately greeted with an overly perky voice, "Hey, you must be my roommate!"

Ivan was not at all fond of the loud voice. He'd managed to obtain a headache from the heat when he was outside, and the noise had only managed to intensify it. As he turned his gaze towards the American (he could tell he was one just by the way he spoke), the first thing he noticed was that his room mate was already walking towards him. His room mate was also looking at him with the most welcoming pair of blue eye he'd ever seen; and if he had just been some toddler who knew nothing about the world, let alone know that a friendly looking and charming human could end up backstabbing him in the long run, he was sure that he would believe that the American wasn't capable of having a single negative thought towards another person. His blonde hair was a bit messy at the moment (Ivan could still tolerate the sight of it, though), with a large cowlick sticking up at his forehead. He was sure that his new room mate would be quite easy to find in a crowd, as he hadn't seen anyone with such a lively aura, or a cowlick so distinguishable.

As soon as he was in front of Ivan, the American stated, "My name's Alfred. What's yours?"

Ivan was sure that if he wasn't feeling so queasy due to the heat, and exhausted because he hardly ate anything during breakfast and lunch, he wouldn't have found Alfred's greeting to be so cringe-worthy. He wasn't sure if he would be happy to have anyone talk to him at that moment, but of course, he didn't want to seem rude. Therefore, he decided to reply. Before he did so though, he had to stop himself from saying 'Vanya', as he was sure that an English speaker would either find that name strange or hard to remember, "Ivan."

Ivan had hoped that that response would make Alfred leave him alone. Instead, his overly friendly room mate seemed to have taken his response as encouragement to continue speaking, "What are you majoring in?"

For a moment, Ivan was tempted to yell at his room mate. However, he was sure that if he tried to open his mouth and raise his voice, he was going to throw up. He instead decided to examine Alfred's face for a moment, and couldn't help but suddenly feel sympathy for his room mate. Despite his friendly attitude, he was beginning to look a bit nervous, or perhaps that was how Alfred had looked and felt all along, but he was too busy being angry with him to really notice. He couldn't blame his room mate for feeling this way, though. He hadn't even bothered trying to get to know his room mate before he moved into the dorm, and he was sure that his apathetic demeanor towards the conversation was making the American feel as if what he was saying was both stupid and awkward. If he'd at least not thought that what he was saying was stupid before, that is. He decided to try and ease the tension he'd unintentionally formed, all in an attempt to make the American feel better in his presence, but at the same time, didn't want to reveal the fact that he was feeling sick, as due to quite a few rather traumatizing experiences, he did not want to appear weak, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I don't feel like talking right now. Why don't we have this conversation some other time?"

To Ivan, it looked as if Alfred wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved by this, or ashamed. Either way, he was still able to maintain the friendly tone, "Alright then."

With that said, Alfred returned to his side of the room so that he could finish unpacking. Meanwhile, Ivan set his luggage down next to his bed, pulled his shoes off, and laid down on the bed. While he plopped down on his bed, he made sure that he was laying down on his stomach, in the hopes of making his queasiness more bearable. Since he'd become even more exhausted, due the warmth of the bed, he decided to close his eyes, and eventually fell asleep.

* * *

Ivan awoke to find that orange sunlight was now filtering into room through the window. _It must be evening._ he thought, before glancing at the clock to find that his observation was, in fact, true. As soon as he sat up on his bed, he heard someone say, "Hey, you're awake. Do you want some pizza? We did move in kind of early, so the cafeteria isn't open yet."

Despite the fact that Ivan now had hunger pangs, he definitely wasn't going to allow himself to eat pizza. Therefore, he declined the offer, "Nyet, I'm not that hungry right now."

However, it was obvious that Alfred was far from giving up his attempt to try and convince Ivan to have some pizza, as he began to importune, "Would you want some if I let you pick out the toppings? I can pay for the pizza too. Besides, if you don't feel like eating right now, you can always have some later."

"I really don't want any pizza."

"Alright, fine. But don't be afraid to have some later if you change your mind."

Ivan gave Alfred a look of confusion after hearing this. He'd never experienced or even heard of someone that was so willing to give food to a person they hardly even knew. In fact, based on what he'd heard about college room mates, and based on his personal experience with people, they probably wouldn't even care about what someone they hardly knew wanted. Especially if it wasn't their job to serve that person. Alfred only smiled at the bemused look upon his room mate's face, and explained in a tone that was somehow even more friendly than the one he'd been using, "My parents gave me lots of money, so I don't care if you get into any of my food. As long as you don't eat or drink anything from the container."

Feeling a bit embarrassed, as he believed that he didn't deserve such an offer, he decided to say, "Oh, well thanks for the offer."

"No problem."

A silence settled into the room, and Ivan decided to stare out the window. Judging by the position of the sun, it didn't seem as if it was going to be nearly as warm outside as it was when he first arrived in his dorm room. In fact, it looked perfect outside for jogging. Despite the fact that excitement at the thought of excising and ridding himself of 'unneeded' calories, he knew that he was going to have to eat something before going outside to work out, as he hadn't eaten anything in quite a while, and his blood sugar was dropping. With this in mind, he decided to go through his luggage on order to retrieve an apple that he packed (it hadn't been in there for too long, so he wasn't worried). Then, he quickly ate the apple before putting on his shoes. He couldn't help but feel relieved by the fact that he probably wouldn't need any sunscreen, since the sun didn't seem to be strong enough at the moment to give his pale skin a sunburn. Once he was prepared, he began to head outside so that he could begin to jog for an hour.

While he was jogging, he tried to come up with a diminutive for Alfred, as he was not used to pronouncing his room mate's name. He wasn't sure if the name would ever feel right on his tongue, or if he'd even be able to pronounce it correctly or remember how to pronounce it at all. It required quite a bit of thought for him to come up with something that he thought would be fitting for Alfred, and close to his name. It did take him nearly an hour for him to come up with anything he deemed appropriate, but he was eventually able to narrow his choice down to a couple of options. He decided that he was either going to call Alfred 'Alik' or 'Fredka'.

By the time he was finished exercising and had returned to his dorm room, Ivan gathered up some clothes and a towel so that he could take a quick shower. At least, that was his initial plan. Instead, he found that he was immediately distracted by the unwanted mass that was his stomach as soon as he's pulled his shirt off. Words would never be able to describe just how much he loathed the 'useless' chunk of lard that clung to him. No matter how many times he would try to shrink it in the past, he could've sworn that it always remained the same size. In fact, sometimes it even seemed to grow larger. He always considered it to be quite a distraction while he was taking a shower, as he would always end up spending so much time trying to determine how much fat was stored in it.

By the time he had become too upset to even want to look at his own body anymore, he finished taking his shower, and changed into some new clothes. Once he was fully dressed, he exited the bathroom and walked over to his bed. He didn't even care for the fact that his hair was still wet, or that he hadn't yet organized his side of the room. He was just so exhausted at that moment, and yet, as he tried for what seemed to be hours just to fall asleep, the hunger pangs that had returned decided to start pestering him. It wasn't as if he was used to eating as little as he had that day, even if his father had forced him to quite a few times in the past. He'd actually been eating quite a bit during the past month. Ivan figured that the only reason he had these hunger pangs was because his stomach was 'spoiled'. With this new negative thought aimed towards his stomach, he decided to mentally scold the organ, _Stupid, spoiled stomach. Just stop hurting, you don't even have it that bad._

When Ivan was able to ignore the hunger pangs, and putting so much time and effort into doing so, fell into a deep slumber due to having exhausted himself even more.

* * *

 **Alright, that was probably not the best introduction this story could have had, but I'll try to improve it if I can. Just a heads up, I am not a college student. I'm still a high schooler. I'm sorry if I get something wrong in this story. I'll try to make this as realistic as possible with my limited experience.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: There's a little bit of swearing in this chapter. It's not too bad though.**

* * *

Before Ivan had fallen asleep, he had expected the hunger pangs to subside in the morning. Surely, he thought, they wouldn't last forever. He was sure that his stomach was bound to realize that he was limiting his food intake after eating something as meager as an apple, and then not consuming anything for over twelve hours afterwards. He thought that his stomach should've taken the hint by now, but instead, it felt empty, and was cramping. Considering the fact that it was still dark outside, he figured that the pain had become so intense, that it had awoken him quite early that morning.

Ivan glanced over at the clock to find that it was four thirty-eight in the morning. Perhaps that wasn't _too_ early, but he wasn't quite a fan of spending a few hours after he woke up to wait for the sun to rise. Especially if he'd done such a thing for more than three days in a row, as after a while, a lack of sunlight after awaking could be quite depressing. At least he wasn't expecting to be able to spend some quality time with anyone during college. He knew that waking up so early for so many days in a row (as he normally would for a while after accidentally doing it once) would be much more depressing if one was used to being in the presence of others, and had to spend the first hours of their day in silence.

After spending a few moments to stare out the window, in order to observe the beautiful, partly cloudy night sky along with its full moon, Ivan sighed and decided that it would probably be best if he started the day, since he was completely incapable of sleeping any longer than he already had. It was Sunday, and classes wouldn't start until the next day, but Ivan figured that he would rather not waste the first few hours of his day watching the horizon until the sun finally came up. Besides, he really needed to eat something. Not only were his hunger pangs _really_ beginning to bother him, but he'd done some research on how to increase one's metabolism, and found from quite a few sources which suggested that eating something high in fiber during the first hour that he was awake was a wonderful way to increase metabolism. He wasn't sure whether or not this was true, but at the same time, he couldn't see any harm in trying it. Besides, in some sense, it seemed to him as if it could work; not that he was an expert on how to manipulate one's metabolism. After all, fiber does help the stomach digest, which could perhaps help warm up his stomach for the rest of the day, since it also seemed to be extremely filling. Lastly, and his most favorite trait about fiber was the fact that humans couldn't digest it. Therefore, the fiber alone would not inflict his body with unneeded calories (he was okay with the calories that came from the other ingredients in fiber dense food, though). Never in his life had he thought that he would love fiber so much.

With the information he'd discovered about fiber not too long ago in mind, Ivan decided to search through his bag in order to retrieve a couple of snacks that had a bunch of fiber in them (he'd made sure that they didn't contain any ingredients that could potentially lead to weight gain, and that there was almost no sugar or fat). Then, he grabbed his laptop and set it down on the desk that was closest to his bed. He couldn't help but appreciate the fact that he was also able to buy a new laptop before going to college. He'd saved up for one back when he used to work while he was in high school, and he was sure that college was going to be much more difficult and time consuming without a computer of some sort. Besides, ever since he had all the access to the internet he wanted, he was able to look up the most effective ways to lose weight, various ways to increase metabolism, and how many calories certain exercises would burn. He was also curious about learning some ways to try and make himself not have so much of an appetite. Lastly, and most importantly, Ivan would use a bmi calculator to measure how fat he was, and would use a regular calculator to predict an efficient diet plan.

Although he didn't think doing this research would take him so long, as he had already thought he'd already known quite a bit about how to lose wait, Ivan was surprised to find that he'd been on his computer for nearly an hour. Since he'd found out a bunch of minutia on the process of weight loss that he hadn't known before anyways, he decided that he'd done enough research, and looked out the window to see if the sun had decided to appear yet. Much to his disappointment, he found that it was still quite dark outside. The Russian sighed at this, and decided to shut his laptop down. Since he couldn't really think of anything else to do on his computer aside from the research he'd just completed at that moment, he decided to take the time to finally organize his side of the dorm. The first thing he decided to do was grab all of the cloths he'd packed from his luggage, and organize them into drawers. Then, he unwrapped the charger of his laptop after taking it out of the laptop bag he'd carried his computer in, and plugged it into the wall so that it would always be prepared for his use.

By the time he was halfway finished with organizing his side of the dorm, he was interrupted by a tired voice, "Do you think you could turn that lamp off? I can't get any sleep when it's so bright in here."

Ivan sighed at this, "Fredka, would you mind just dealing with it for a bit? I still haven't put all my stuff away."

Although he'd never heard the Russian call him 'Fredka', Alfred decided to ignore the nickname and snapped, though his voice was still wispy with exhaustion, "Dude, it's only, like, six in the morning. Turn it off!"

"Fine," Ivan retorted, exasperation obvious in his voice, "If you're just going to be a cranky child about this, I will. Though I probably shouldn't, since you don't deserve it."

Alfred ignored the angry response as he rolled over and curled up in his blanket in order to return to the perfect world that sleep was (for him, anyways). Meanwhile, Ivan couldn't help but mutter angrily in Russian as he turned the lamp off. Since there didn't seem to be anything else for him to do, he decided to sit on his bed, and occasionally glance out the window as he waited for the sun to finally rise. By the time it was almost seven, the sky began to look brighter, and the dorm room didn't seem so dark anymore. Excitement began to fill him, as he waited for more and more light to enter the dorm room, until finally, he decided that it was light enough in the room to be able to tell pink from yellow without both of the colors looking a light grayish blue. Now that it was bright enough for him to see what he was doing, he decided to finish up the task he'd busied himself with before he was interrupted.

While he was placing his brush on the night stand next to his bed, however, Ivan couldn't help but suddenly feel guilty about the fact that he hadn't cared about whether or not he was keeping Alfred awake. He knew that he personally would not enjoy being kept up by a light, and having some other person decide that whatever they were doing was more important than his sleep. Spending a moment of thinking the situation over, he eventually sighed, and decided that it would probably be best if he apologized for his rudeness. There was nothing that his room mate did to deserve to have his sleep interrupted, after all, as he had not tried to awaken Ivan when he had decided to take a nap for a few hours during the day he first arrived at the dorm room.

Eventually, by the time Ivan was finally finished making his side of the room look as if someone actually lived there, he decided to glimpse out the window once more. He couldn't help but feel a sudden jolt of excitement when saw that the sun wasn't too far in the horizon, yet still made it bright enough outside for it to be safe for someone to wonder about. With his exercise plan for that day set as his main priority, he changed his clothes so that he could prepare for some exercise. Then, he made sure to fill up his water bottle before heading out, as he was not at all fond of the idea of dehydrating while running for a long distance (although, he hoped that if a lack of water was an issue that he would push himself anyways, as he found weight loss to be much more important than hydration).

After spending one hour to try and do his best to jog faster than he had the last time he'd jogged, Ivan returned to his dorm room, feeling sweaty and gross. Since he did not think that he could stand feeling damp and filthy for a longer time than he needed to be, he decided to take a quick shower as soon as he'd gathered up some clothes. This time while cleaning himself, he tried his best not to focus on his body. Yet somehow with all of the self-control he could possibly muster, the task still seemed to have proved to be impossible to achieve. By the time the water in the shower finally turned cold, the now incredibly dispirited Russian decided to turn it off and started drying himself off. When he was changed into some fresh, clean day clothes and had exited the bathroom, he noticed that Alfred seemed to finally be stirring.

Now having nothing better to do, Ivan decided to take a book that he'd brought with him off of the nightstand, and began to read. However, when he spotted Alfred grabbing a towel, he couldn't help but suddenly feel a bit guilty. He'd ended up hogging and wasting all of the warm water without realizing it; just so that he could stand there for a long period of time and criticize his own body. Now Alfred was going to be stuck with a cold shower. Ivan nearly buried his face into his book in an attempt to try to hide his face. The shame at that moment was becoming too overwhelming for him. It was only nine in the morning, and he'd managed to act extremely 'selfish' twice.

* * *

Unfortunately, as the day progressed, Alfred an Ivan were beginning to find it difficult not to argue with each other. Ivan didn't understand why they were having so much trouble, as they'd only known each other for only one day. Sometimes, he would even forget the reason why they were arguing in the first place. What he did hate the most about this heated situation of his was the fact that he would start stuttering quite often and almost never seemed to be able to fend Alfred off with a well constructed argument. It was to the point where Alfred would sometimes laugh at what he said and then start ignoring him; as if he wasn't even worthy of being talked or listened to. The fact that he would sometimes suddenly be ignored only encouraged him to try and perpetuate the argument, in the hopes of making Alfred angry, but of course, it was always to no avail. This always caused him to not only feel immature for trying to have the last word, but moronic for not being able to do so much as strike some passion in the American with a clever insult.

There was one argument in particular that seemed to do the most damage. Once again, Ivan didn't even remember the cause of the argument, as both he and Alfred were much too interested in what they'd said in the moment, but the result certainly did make them both wish they knew what caused the argument in the first place. All Ivan remembered was hurling a few insults towards Alfred before the American began to visibly tremble with irritation. In fact, he looked so wrathful that the Russian couldn't help but become a bit nervous in his presence. With an icy glare, Alfred had spat out in a voice that wavered due to how angry he was, "You piece of shit! I can't believe that I ended up getting stuck with someone so stupid! Maybe I should change my room mate so that my brain doesn't kill itself because of your stupid logic! I bet that your parents didn't even love you!"

Ivan couldn't help but flinch at the last comment. Of course, he was perfectly aware of the fact that the insult that was just thrown at him was probably just another comment that wouldn't affect others, but for him, as soon as he heard those words, he could've sworn that he heard a part of his heart shatter. He felt his throat begin to tighten. Much to his adversity, however, it didn't seem as if Alfred was finished ranting, "You probably made your parents the most miserable people on the planet! No one in their right mind would want you in their life! I just wish you'd-"

When Alfred had abruptly stopped ranting, Ivan turned away from him. Then gazed at the floor in desperation due to how powerless he felt at that moment. He didn't even understand what he'd done to make Alfred so angry with him (he even thought that the American hated him). All he knew that it was 'his fault' this happened. As it always seemed to be. Ivan felt tears threatening to escape from his eyes, but he tried with all of his will power to keep himself from crying.

Meanwhile, Alfred seemed to have finally caught on to the fact that he'd taken his insults a bit too far. At first, he wasn't sure what to do. Then, with a voice full of obvious uncertainty, he tried his best to reassure his room mate, "I'm sorry, Ivan. I shouldn't have said any of that! Please, don't be upset..."

Unfortunately, this didn't do anything to improve Ivan's mood. In fact, by the time a tear finally slid down his cheek, he decided to say, "I'm going for a walk."

Before Alfred had any time to say something, Ivan nearly dashed out of the dorm room. While he was making his way out of the building and off campus, he made sure to keep his head down and walk quickly so that no one would have the chance to look at his face. Once he was off campus, he let his feet carry him where ever they pleased, as he continued to think about what Alfred had said, and he couldn't help but find the statement about his parents hating him to be true. Sure, since his mother had died when he was extremely young, he had no idea whether or not she actually loved him, but he was certain with how people had treated him all throughout his life that she probably would. At the same time, though, it was obvious to him that his father couldn't have cared less for his existence.

Most of the time, his father was a quiet man. He was quite serious and strict too, and it was to the point where something as simple and innocent as laughter would exasperate him. He was always congenial towards his sisters, but whenever he spoke to Ivan, it was almost as if he became a completely different person. Ivan had never received an 'I love you' from his dad, but instead would be slapped across the face and sometimes beaten if his father thought that there was even a hint that he was acting ungrateful in his presence. If he began to cry while he was being hit, his father would only strike him harder for appearing 'weak'. Sometimes, he would even go as far as to strangle him, and it would take one of Ivan's sisters to tell his dad to stop just so that he would.

Aside from the physical abuse, Ivan's father would also force him into isolation by locking him in his room for a few days with no food if he didn't have straight As in school. No amount of his sister's begging would make his father change his mind about doing that. Lastly, there was always the constant verbal abuse he would receive as well. Mostly, they were comments about how he wasn't worthy of any love, and how he should be forced to starve and work extremely hard for his food for months on end since that was what his father had to do when he was a kid. Not that Ivan hadn't had to go through the same thing during the earlier years in his life when he was still in Russia. Before his father had found a way to bring him and his siblings to America, food was something that was difficult to come by, and he would often feel quite guilty during the occasions he had a full stomach, as he knew that there were many others that had possibly forgotten what it was like to be full.

When Ivan found that he was growing tired of walking, he decided to sit down on the next bench he came across. Unfortunately, his dark thoughts decided that they weren't going to leave him any time soon, and because of this, he knew that he was going to have to do something about the emotional if he wanted it to stop soon. With a sense of urgency, he rolled up one of his sleeves. Then, with the sharpest part of his fingernail, he began to apply pressure to his skin. Slowly, he dragged his fingernail back and forth in that same area, and didn't stop even when a bit of skin began to peel off. At that moment, he didn't care if any passerby saw him do this. What would some stranger do if they saw him do this anyways? He'd done it many times in public before; around a bunch of strangers, and usually no one ever seemed to notice. That was one of the reasons why he preferred to carve into his skin with his fingernails. The other reason why was because it seemed to be a much less scary way of inflicting pain upon himself than using a sharp object.

By the time he had a fresh, red line on his forearm, Ivan decided to roll his sleeve down, and began to make his way back to the campus. At first, he had no idea how he would arrive there, since he didn't know his way through the town he was in and hadn't paid attention to his surroundings while he was walking. Fortunately, after asking for directions from the first person he came across, who was willing to provide them, he was able to find his way back.

When he finally had returned to his dorm room, he immediately made his way to his bed, and began to sit there as he stared off into space in silence. He ended up spending a long while to continue to drown in his ever so powerful self-hatred, and was shocked when he heard his room mate begin to approach him. The depressed Russian couldn't help but groan in sudden exasperation when he figured that Alfred wanted to try and converse with him. All he wanted at that moment was to just be alone.

Before he could open his mouth to tell Alfred to leave, the American spoke, "Ivan, I really meant it when I said that I was sorry. What I said was stupid and childish. I shouldn't have even lost my temper with you to begin with."

Ivan turned away from him; causing Alfred to sigh in desperation. Then, the American continued, "Look, we obviously started things off horribly, and I don't want this to make us miserable while we're still room mates. Can we please start over?"

There was a moment of silence before Ivan replied in a near whisper, "I think it would be best if I just didn't talk to you ever again. That way you'll never have to hear my stupid voice."

"No, Ivan. Please, don't say that! I don't want you to feel that way about this."

"Why do you care anyways?" Ivan retorted, "You hardly even know me."

"Well, soon enough, I'm going to hopefully know you pretty well. If not, you're at least going to be living with me for a long time. So we might as well try to make things go smoothly."

Ivan remained silent, as he continued to stare at the wall. Alfred suppressed yet another sigh, and then asked, "You're still very upset about this, aren't you?"

Ivan didn't bother responding.

"Do you want a hug?"

Still, no response.

"Well, it's too bad if you don't want one, because you're getting one anyways."

When Ivan was pulled into Alfred's arms, he didn't even care to try and squirm away. He knew that most people would've probably freaked out and possibly punch Alfred in the face for hugging them when they hardly knew him, but Ivan couldn't help but be a bit comforted by the embrace. He could hardly remember how it felt to be held and feel the warmth of another human spread throughout him. Unfortunately, he was unable to enjoy the warm feeling as long as he wanted to, as the hug was short-lived. Not only that, but soon after he broke the hug, Alfred began to walk away. By the time his room mate was back to his side of the room, he couldn't help but think, _He's such a strange room mate._

Unfortunately, not even the hug and the apology from Alfred could make him feel better. The despondency and guilt was so strong, Ivan didn't eat as much as a morsel for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

When Ivan had fallen asleep that night, he was expecting for all of his worries to go away; for him to hopefully have a night's worth of peaceful sleep. Unfortunately for him, this expectation was one he had found to be quite foolish, as instead, he was forced to suffer through yet another nightmare. This one was, in fact, was much worse than the nightmares he would usually have. At least after his usual nightmares, he didn't wake up in a cold sweat, since he was used to having them every so often, so usually, he would feel quite indifferent after experiencing one.

Ivan felt warm tears slide down his cheeks as he continued to tremble under the covers of his bed. If there was one thing in the world that he would have wished for, it was for all of those horrible memories that continued to not only haunt his mind on a daily basis, but also his sleep, to go away. What was the point of maintaining such recollections anyways? It wasn't as if he planned on ever seeing his dad again, or that his father would ever want to see him once he left the house. Which clearly meant that there was no need for him to remember _specifically_ what he did. Rather, he just wanted to remember him for being a terrible man, have a vague idea as to why, but not entirely understand a single detail that proved this. He knew this could never be the case though. Unless his memory was to be severely damaged, the memories of what his father did would always be there, and that was that. He had always had a wonderful memory; almost never was there a time where he had trouble even recalling the tiniest, most insignificant details, and it often left others assuming that he made the recollections up, as most of the time, the average human couldn't remember as many events as he could. Especially not so vividly. Though he was sure that even if he did have a horrible memory that he would still remember the trauma he'd experience without any need for reminder.

Since Ivan began to realize that the distress he was feeling at the moment wasn't going to diminish any time soon, he decided to curl up on himself in order to generate as much warmth as possible, and began to quietly sob in his arms. Much to his surprise, however, it didn't seem as if he was going to be alone while doing this, as he heard the one sound that always struck fear in him whenever he was unsuspecting of another human's company; the noise that feet shuffling towards him produced. He spent a few moments to try and figure out who was there, for at first he was frightened by who could've been in this place that seemed to be quite unfamiliar to him at the moment. Though after spending some time to _really_ think about where he'd been during the last couple of days, and how the room looked when he had awoken from that horrible dream, he began to realize that it was just his room mate who was silently approaching him (or at least attempting to, as his foot steps seemed to be slow and uncertain).

Then, he heard the small click of a lamp being turned on. Even if he didn't really want to be seen at that moment, he still couldn't help but appreciate the fact that his face was currently covered, as he knew that that light would most definitely hurt his eyes, since at that moment, they were used to the lightest thing in that room for hours being the dark blue light of the moon that filtered through the half closed curtains. It was possible that he would've felt better, if this gratitude hadn't been short-lived and instead lasted forever, as Ivan soon began to realize more about his current situation, and was unable to stay ignorant and possibly become happier because of that. Perhaps this had just been a coincidence, but Alfred had awoken and began to approach him not too long after his nightmare had abruptly vanished. That must have meant that he'd made a bunch of noise while he was asleep. Maybe he was lucky for the fact that he was much too upset at that moment to be embarrassed, but he'd thought that his father had managed to somehow make him stop screaming and thrashing around while he was having an incredibly horrible nightmare. It'd been a while since he'd made any noise while sleeping, yet at the same time, as much as he'd wished for the behavior to be scared out of him so that it would never happen again, he knew that it simply wasn't possible. It was just one of the many ridiculous standards that his father had set for him, and that he chose to try and accomplish, as it now seemed to be a part of his instinct.

The other thing that he realized was the fact that the nightmare he'd possibly experienced was probably caused by the fact that he'd been forced to deal with a great amount of stress when Alfred had harshly insulted him the other day. He knew that it wasn't entirely Alfred's fault that this had happened, as despite the fact that he didn't even understand what was making the American so upset with him to begin with, he'd still given out his fair share of insults, even if they had been either mocked, laughed at, or ignored. Still, he couldn't help but become somewhat angry with this room mate. Despite the part of his mind that was telling him he was being a bit ridiculous at that moment, he still thought that the American should've been able to figure out after conversing with him that he was 'socially-awkward' and 'inept' when it came to speaking. He should've been able to figure out that Ivan was a 'moron' and would not always understand when something he said was deserving of criticism, or when he might have done something to upset him. Lastly, he figured that Alfred should've figured out that he was 'weak' and sensitive. Despite the fact that he'd suffered quite a bit of abuse during his childhood, it was still quite easy for the Russian to become incredibly distressed after being put down and socially rejected. He didn't know why this was. Weren't people who went through the same things as him supposed to be numb? Based on the books he'd read, and what people would constantly tell him, he couldn't help but believe that it must be so, and therefore, felt as if whenever he thought that his childhood was horrible, he was just being a faker. Even when he didn't try and alert the whole world about it, he still felt as if he was nothing but an attention seeker that no one would ever want to listen to. There were other people in the world that had legit problems, and he didn't want people to misunderstand them because of he'd decided to share his.

It was when Alfred was right next to his bed that his anger became much worse than it had when he realized that his room mate was probably the cause of the nightmare. First, he'd made him feel worthless in his presence; clearly not understanding the flaws about him that he thought had been so obvious. Then, he'd assumed that an apology and a hug was going to make up for the worthlessness he'd felt, and the nightmare he'd just experienced. Now he was expecting his presence to suddenly make Ivan feel one hundred percent better about the whole situation. Before he could even attempt to try and tell his room mate to leave him be though, Alfred asked, "Ivan, are you okay?"

Ivan found that he was too busy trying to breath through his sobs to respond. Even if he could, he soon found that that was probably not going to be possible. His mind was a maelstrom of emotions, as the fear he'd felt due to his nightmare, despite his rage, was still quite obviously there. He even found that despite how much he wanted to, he was unable to move away from Alfred.

Since it didn't seem as if Ivan was going to respond to his question, Alfred contemplated on whether or not it would be wise to stay and attempt to comfort him. His room mate would probably be quite creeped out if he suddenly decided to hold him for a long period of time until he stopped crying. Sure, he wasn't necessarily the best at understanding other's boundaries, but he wasn't that oblivious when it came to personal bubbles. Besides, there was a chance that the Russian would rather be left alone, rather than in the company of another human being.

As he continued to stare at Ivan, the sight of his poor room mate looking so distressed eventually managed to make his heart experience a large ache, which made it feel as if there was now a huge, empty hole in his chest. Going against all good judgement, he decided to sit down on the edge of the bed so that he was right next to the Russian. Then, he sat his crying room mate up so that he could hold him tightly. At first, the Russian wanted to struggle out of Alfred's arms, but instead quickly lost that desire to do so. The gentle way in which Alfred stroked his hair was so soothing, and the warmth and soft words of reassurance made him feel much more safe. Sure, it did take quite a while for him to finally calm down, but at least the American was eventually able to make his fear go away, and with that, any anger that he had felt towards him. In fact, he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for the fact that he hadn't just let what Alfred did go so quickly. Usually, he wasn't one to hold a grudge over a few insults. Especially after when the person he'd received them from apologized. Though Ivan decided not to dwell on the quilt. His room mate's warmth didn't seem to want to allow that anyways.

A long while passed as Alfred continued to hold his room mate who was no longer crying (yet he figured that he still needed the comfort). He eventually decided to glance over at the clock when he figured that he'd held the Russian long enough, to find that it was six fourteen. Since it happened to be nearing the time in which he and possibly Ivan were going to wake up anyways for their first day of college, the American decided to ask, "Are you hungry?"

Ivan shook his head, and then turned his head so that he could stare at the wall. However, Alfred didn't seem too pleased with this response as he pressed on, "Are you sure? I didn't see you eat anything yesterday, and you and I both spent almost our entire day in this room. In fact, the only thing I saw you eat the entire time you were here was that apple. Can you please try to eat something? You might feel a little better if you have something in your stomach."

Ivan thought about this for a moment. Then he realized that it probably wouldn't be very wise for him to reject the food offer. As invasive as he found this to be, Alfred seemed to notice that something was up with his eating habits. In order to prevent his room mate from becoming suspicious, or even interrogating him, he decided that he was going to have to eat. Therefore, he finally decided to comply, "Fine, I'll eat something."

With that said, Alfred smiled, and then set off towards the fridge in order to grab a container off of the top of it. Then, once he returned to Ivan's bed, the Russian noticed that he was holding a container full of muffins. Much to his horror, the muffins appeared to be twice the size of a normal muffin as well. As if it wasn't already scary enough that muffins had a lot of sugar to begin with. At least he would have the chance to decide which type of the four muffins that were in the container had the least amount of sugar. The chocolate muffin was definitely out of the question. After eliminating the chocolate muffin and the one with sugar sprinkled onto it, he was finding it quite difficult to chose between the blueberry and the poppy seed muffin. For a moment, Ivan just wanted to ask Alfred whether or not he had anything healthier available, but he knew that based on a couple of rather traumatizing experiences with his father that that would probably not be such a great idea. Besides, while growing up, it had been hammered into his head during school that it was impolite to ask for something else instead of accepting what was given to him. Based on how his father had reacted when he hadn't, he assumed that others probably found it offensive or troublesome if he didn't. Even though he wouldn't really care if someone did that to him.

After being asked what muffin he wanted, and taking a long while to think about which one would have the least amount of calories, he finally settled on having the poppy seed muffin. Then, after he'd taken a few bites from the muffin, he was offered a cup of milk. Just when Ivan thought the the problem couldn't get any worse too. Once he'd finished eating the muffin and drinking the milk, Ivan decided that he was going to restrict some calories from lunch. Despite the fact that Ivan was clearly disgusted with himself, Alfred seemed to be extremely oblivious to Ivan's easy-to-read demeanor, and decided to say, "Well, I think that I'm going to get ready for my first class now."

Ivan glanced over at the clock to find that it was now six thirty-two. His first class, some math class that he kept on forgetting the name of despite the amount of times he looked at his text book an schedule (it wasn't calculus, since he'd taken and passed that in high school), would start at eight. At first, he'd planned on taking a shower, despite the fact that he was still quite presentable. However, he quickly changed his mind when he noticed that Alfred already seemed to be prepared to take one instead, and he still had no idea how long it would take for Alfred to shower, as he had not paid any attention to that. Therefore, he instead decided to turn on his laptop, and at first look up a bunch of random things that were innocent. Then, once Alfred was in the bathroom, began to do some research on the amount of calories that were in his muffin. Which, after becoming frustrated with the answers that seemed to be all over the place, decided that there was really no point in looking up and comparing the calories to the other types of muffins. Whether or not the muffin was considered large or extra large, Ivan had no idea, but all he knew was that the muffin he ate did, in fact, have a lot more calories than he would've ever wanted to allow inside of him from one meal. Add in the calories from the milk as well, and Ivan figured that he might have well not eaten a single thing for lunch that day.

Then, once Ivan had found no reason for him to even have his laptop on, he decided to turn it off, after finding that it was almost seven, and wait in pure boredom for Alfred to finally leave the bathroom. Then, once his room mate finally left the bathroom, Ivan entered it in order to change into some new cloths, and take care of a few things with his hygiene before returning to his bed in order to gather up the books that he would need for the classes he would be taking that morning. Then, after sitting around in pure boredom for around ten minutes, he finally decided to set off towards his first class; figuring that he would still probably have a bit of trouble finding it, and certainly didn't want to risk being late, if that was the case. Perhaps the teachers would've let it slide if he was a freshman in high school, but he was an adult now, and he'd been constantly told that much more was expected of adults. Based on what his teachers and his father would tell him while he was growing up, it didn't seem as if his professor would be at all forgiving towards any mistakes he made, and whether or not they had been exaggerating, it still sort of frightened Ivan.

Fortunately, Ivan had been on time for his class. Aside from the fact that he'd been given some homework in a couple of his classes, which was no huge surprise for him, his morning seemed to be going great so far. After all, he'd read what the professors had wanted him to read before the year began, and had no problem memorizing what he did read. Nor did he have any trouble learning what his professors were trying to teach him and understanding the syllabus they would go over. In fact, in one of his classes, he'd been dismissed thirty minutes early. Even if the pace in which the professors were going at was a lot quicker than what he'd been used to in high school, he didn't really think that he would have too much trouble in college. His father had pretty much scared him into being a fast learner and quick at working. Besides, he wasn't too worried about staying up late or struggling with completing any long reports either, as aside from excising, Ivan didn't really do anything in his free time. Aside from reading, the only thing that Ivan was really familiar with was learning and working, and since his father had almost prevented him from doing anything fun his entire childhood, he simply wasn't interested in anything that others would consider enjoyable. He'd even tried to give those activities that others considered fun a chance, but he couldn't help but feel guilty and bored out of his mind for doing so.

By the time it was lunch, he decided to see what would be available at the cafeteria, as despite the fact that he'd tried to forbid himself not to eat anything, his hunger completely diminished his discipline. However, when he did examine the food at the cafeteria, he couldn't help but be disgusted by the display. The food looked quite fattening; there was no doubt about it. In fact, he'd spent quite a bit of time just trying to scrape together what he considered a healthy meal. He thought it was quite ridiculous. Besides, he wasn't exactly thrilled about what he was going to eat. After spending quite a bit of time on what would be the healthiest, yet tastiest meal to eat, he decided to give up on the fact that such a meal could be considered delicious, and settled for some salad without any dressing or cheese and an apple. Ivan wasn't even sure if he was going to be able to finish eating such a boring meal, which he figured would probably be a good thing anyways, since after remembering the muffin incident, would mean that he would be consuming almost no calories at all.

Then, Ivan looked around in order to try and find somewhere to sit. Much to his adversity, however, it seemed as if every table had an occupant. Since Ivan was a shy individual, he was not at all fond of the idea of sitting at a table with a stranger at it. Based on past experience, he found that people were either intimidated by how tall he was, or hated him for reasons he couldn't quite understand. It was often what left him feeling isolated during his childhood while he was at school. Fortunately though (or perhaps not so fortunately), after having caused great harm to one of his classmates by accident, most people who knew him had suddenly grown to fear him. That was when the bullying had, for the most part, stopped. Even when he moved on to middle school and high school, where he'd found that he hardly even knew anyone, people still feared him. Even some of the teachers were intimidated by his presence, and he didn't understand why. Still, despite that, there were some individuals that weren't frightened by his demeanor who had absolutely no problem making him feel horrible.

Eventually, after a while of searching through the tables for somewhere to sit, he'd found Alfred. He knew that this was probably going to be considered a bit stalkerish, but since Alfred was the only person in the room that he knew, he immediately decided to sit next to him. However, when Alfred didn't show any signs of really caring for the fact that his room mate was sitting right next to him, Ivan couldn't help but suddenly feel relieved.

Unfortunately though, after having taken a few bites of his boring salad, Ivan couldn't help but cringe when he heard Alfred state, "That seems like a very disappointing meal. Why don't you at least put some ranch on that salad?"

"I don't like ranch, there's too much fat in it," Ivan explained, "Besides, this meal isn't boring. There's still some radish, carrots, and tomatoes mixed in with the lettuce. And I do have this apple."

"Well, if you don't like fatty salad dressings, you could always go for a vinegar based dressing. Unless those irritate your throat of course. They're still really good. Also, I know that there's a large variety of vegetables on your plate, but fruits and vegetables can't be the only thing you eat. How about some meat or dairy? Maybe even a desert?"

As Alfred continued to speak, Ivan couldn't help but suddenly feel his face heat up with embarrassment. Eventually, after a while of having his meal critiqued, he averted his gaze aware from the food and towards the floor. This seemed to have made Alfred aware of his own rudeness, as he suddenly began to try in explain himself with urgency, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. I mean, it's fine if this is all you want to eat at the moment. I just don't want you to go hungry within half of an hour, that's all."

Ivan didn't respond, as he continued to silently stare at the ground as Alfred resumed to eating. He waited for his room mate to have half of his plate finished (Ivan had never seen someone put so much food on their plate before, and he wondered how Alfred wasn't even close to being fat with how much he ate) before resuming to eating his meal. By the time he had finished up his salad, and began to eat his apple, he couldn't help but suddenly look up in curiosity when he saw someone walk up to the table both he and his room mate were sitting at. There stood a male, who was somewhat on the short side, with medium brown hair and the most friendly pair of light brown eyes Ivan had ever seen. When he spoke, Ivan was certain that just by the tone of his voice that this individual had probably never hated or hurt another person in his life, "Hello, do you guys mind if I sit here?"

Alfred almost immediately answered the question, "Not at all."

Considering the fact that Ivan was almost fluent in English, and had heard many different accents within this language, he could immediately tell that this person had an Italian accent. Which meant that this individual was most definitely from Italy. Before Ivan really had any time to start talking with the Italian, though, he was immediately forced to stay silent as the stranger began to ramble on, "I was going to sit next to my room mate, but he already has a bunch of people to sit with. I wonder why he didn't save a seat for me... oh well. Anyways..."

Another thing that Ivan seemed to have immediately noticed about the Italian was the fact that he was extremely talkative. Ivan didn't want to seem mean when he thought this, but sometimes he simply either could not understand a word the Italian was saying, as he spoke at quite a rapid pace, or he didn't really care much for what he was rambling on about, or at least, the was how it was at first. It was when the Italian finally introduced himself as Feliciano and mentioned the fact that he was majoring in art when Ivan actually began to grow interested. Apparently, it was something the Italian had always been quite passionate about as long as he could remember, and when Feliciano even brought out a few drawings that he'd worked on during the summer and showed them to him and Alfred, Ivan couldn't help but be extremely impressed. For pencil drawings, they appeared to be extremely realistic. In fact, Ivan couldn't help but be a bit envious towards Feliciano's obvious talent in art. He himself would love to be able to draw, but he'd never been particularly adept at it. No one had ever complimented him for his art. In fact, his father had always ripped up his drawings, claiming that art was a useless skill and a waste of paper and supplies, and that he should focus on useful things such as math or science. That, of course, left Ivan with hardly any way to practice drawing, unless he was able to hide the drawings from his father.

Despite the envy, however, Ivan couldn't remember another time he'd felt so much joy in his life. Even if he didn't really have much to bring to the table when it came to sharing interest. The fact that he didn't have much to say though, and that the others weren't interested in what he had to say to begin with didn't really bother him though. He was expecting it. Besides, he was always more of a listener when it came to conversing anyways, and he quite enjoyed listening to what Alfred and Feliciano were talking about. Along with their sudden subject changes; which always seemed to have come at the most unusual moments of the conversation. In fact, he enjoyed listening to the two talk so much, that he'd completely forgotten about his diet, and prepared a second plate of food. This time, his plate was full of fatty foods.

It was when Ivan was nearly finished eating some pasta when he heard Alfred suddenly speak in a louder voice. Whether this was intentional or not, Ivan couldn't help but suddenly be angry with Alfred and embarrassed with himself when he heard the American say, "Oh my god! I think we managed to get Ivan to eat a decent meal for once."

Suddenly feeling his skin prickle with discomfort, Ivan looked down with slight horror at his plate, and couldn't help but be disgusted with himself when he realized just how much he'd ate. Only one eighth of what he'd grabbed remained. Ivan set down his fork as a queasy feeling began to settle in his stomach. Then, before Alfred or Feliciano could say anything in protest, Ivan stated, "I just remembered that I have something important to do. Sorry, I need to leave now."

Ivan ignored the concerned questions that were now being thrown at him, as he dumped out his food and returned his plate. He'd also remembered to carry his textbooks and notebooks in one arm while he did this, so that he wouldn't have to make two trips and listen to his room mate. Then, as soon as his plate was taken care of, he left for his dorm room. Once he was at his destination, Ivan immediately set his text books down on his desk, and began to pray that he would end up throwing up his lunch. He didn't quite have the nerves to make himself throw up at that moment, as much as he wanted to. After spending a long moment to sulk, Ivan eventually decided that his wish was probably never going to come true, despite how sick he felt. Therefore, he put on some work out clothes, filled up his water bottle, and began to run for the longest time in his life. Despite the fact that it was still really warm outside. At least he'd put on some sunscreen.

By the time Ivan was finally finished with his intense work out, which seemed to have been never ending, he returned to the dorm room. Then he glanced at the clock in order to see just how long he'd been running to find, much to his surprise, that he'd somehow managed to run for nearly two hours straight. Ivan lean against the wall after making this discovery. It was certainly no surprise that he was feeling extremely sore and groggy at that moment. His legs were extremely shaky, as if they were threatening to give out at any moment, and he felt three times more queasy than he had before he started running. He was hardly able to run for one hour when it was more chilly outside, so Ivan figured that he was definitely going to be hurting the next day for pushing past his limit.

The fact that he was still panting so quickly to the point where he was nearly hyperventilating was what Ivan assumed was the reason why Alfred seemed to have immediately come to his aid when he returned from the long 'jog'. Alfred seemed to have immediately caught onto the fact that Ivan was feeling so shaky, that he was about to drop his now empty water bottle at any moment, and relieved him of the burden. Then, he asked with a voice full of unmistakable concern, "Ivan, are you feeling alright?"

Ivan didn't reply, as suddenly, he felt a strong wave of nausea shoot through his stomach. Therefore, before the vomit could erupt from his mouth, he immediately dashed towards the bathroom, and threw up in the toilet. Despite the fact that the vomit didn't seem to really relieve him of his pain, Ivan still couldn't help but appreciate the fact that his initial wish had come true. Even if it had been two hours since he'd eaten anything, he was still sort of thrilled to find that the substance that splattered from his mouth was a bit chunky. At least there were some calories from his lunch that he wouldn't be digesting.

Meanwhile, Alfred couldn't help but cringe as he listened to his room mate vomit. However, he didn't make any comment about it when Ivan had finished, flushed the toilet, and walked out of the bathroom; still feeling just as bad as he had before relieving his stomach of it's contents. He didn't even want to take a shower at that moment, as he was too weak and was in too much pain to really care much for his hygiene at that moment.

Alfred didn't seem to really care much for the fact that Ivan was sweaty either, as he advised his room mate, "Why don't you go lay down? I can go get you some water."

Ivan complied, as he didn't think that he would be able to stand for much longer anyways. Relief flooded throughout his body as he plopped down on his bed, and not too long after that, Alfred had arrived with a cup of fresh, cold water. As soon as he'd been provided with the refreshment, Ivan greedily chugged the entire glass down; not even caring when water spilled down his face, onto his neck, and then onto his bed. As soon as he was finished drinking the cup of water, Alfred refilled the cup, and placed it on Ivan's nightstand. Instead of drinking this cup of water, since he'd been satisfied by the first cup, decided to leave the water that had been provided to him for later.

At first, Ivan had not wanted to wrap a blanket around himself, since he had still felt extremely warm. However, he'd soon began to start shivering. Therefore, he decided to bury himself under his thick overlay. Sleep was definitely not a hard thing for Ivan to achieve at that moment, due to how much the exercise had tired him out. Almost as soon as he had closed his eyes, he'd fallen into a dreamless, peaceful slumber.

* * *

When Ivan awoke, the first thing he noticed was that some of his muscles were still aching quite a bit. He decided to glance outside in order to see if the sun was still up, and much to his horror, found that it was late into sunset. Then, he glance at the clock to find that it was around eight thirty.

Before Ivan could leave his bed in order to try and change into some comfortable clothes as quickly as his achy muscles would allow him to, however, he flinched when he heard a soft voice ask him, "How are you feeling?"

Ivan looked over towards the source of the voice to find his room mate staring at him with a look of worry. For a moment, Ivan wanted to be honest with him and tell him that he was so achy that he didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed, but instead, he decided to go with a lie, "I'm fine."

Alfred didn't seem to be entirely convinced by this, but decided not to press on as he stated, "I'm sorry for making so many comments about your eating habits."

"It's fine," Ivan stated, although he knew for a fact that it definitely wasn't, "I'm over it."

"Oh, that's good to hear. Well, um, do you think you could try not to push yourself too hard while your recovering? You really seem to have been wearing yourself out in these past few days. Just try to relax, okay?"

"Okay."

With that said, Ivan, after spending a few more moments to lay in his bed in order to try and prepare his muscles, finally slid out of the comfort of his bed, and gathered up some comfortable clothes and a towel in order to take a shower. At first, standing had made his muscles agitated with pain, but soon, the warm water had managed to soothe the aches. Then, once he was finished with his shower (and fortunately, he hadn't ended up spending a ridiculously long time in the shower, as he was still much too exhausted to really care for his body at that moment), he dried off, put of the comfortable clothes, and immediately set off towards his side of the room so that he could prepare to do his homework, which fortunately wasn't much.

It'd taken him about an hour, but by the time he was finally finished with his homework, he couldn't help but flinch when he heard Alfred yell, "What the hell!? Why does this have to be so hard!? I don't want to stay up all night doing this!"

Now feeling cautious, as he always would whenever his father was in a terrible mood, Ivan carefully approached Alfred, and while doing so, asked in a hesitant voice, "Do you want any help?"

Alfred looked up at Ivan with agitation, making the Russian suddenly regret his decision to offer his room mate help. However, some relief began to slowly replace the irritation as Alfred answered, "Yes."

Therefore, Ivan immediately began to help Alfred out with his calculus homework. At first, Ivan was afraid that he may have forgotten the formula that was being taught to Alfred, but was relieved to find that he was still quite familiar with it. Explaining to Alfred and guiding him through one problem though, his room mate told him, "Alright, I think I understand how to do this now."

After that was said, Alfred made eye contact with Ivan, and for a moment, he couldn't help but stare at him in shock. Ivan couldn't help but become a bit wary about this, as he asked, "What?"

"Your eyes..."

Ivan became even more frightened, "What about them? Is there something wrong with them?"

"No, they're purple."

"Oh," Ivan couldn't help but be a bit disappointed with that statement. Then, he turned his head away from Alfred, expecting his room mate to, after he was over his shock, tell him that there was no way that they could naturally be purple. He'd tried convincing people in the past that they were, in fact, naturally purple, but no one ever believed him. Much to his adversity, his prediction had been correct, "There's no way those could be real. You must be wearing contacts."

With a sigh of exasperation, Ivan tired to explain, "Nyet, I'm not wearing contacts, these are real. If you try to take my 'contacts' out, you're going to end up with a _real_ eyeball."

Alfred made no comment about his room mate's retort, as he tilted Ivan's head so that the Russia would have no choice but to look at him. Then, after examining his eyes for a very long moment, he finally stated, "They actually look really realistic. I mean, they're more bluish than they are reddish, and your pupils seem to be responding appropriately to the lighting. Here, why don't we go see how your pupils react to the bathroom's lighting."

With that said, Ivan decided to follow Alfred into the bathroom. He couldn't help but feel a bit hopeful. Perhaps Alfred was going to actually believe him, once he had more proof. Sure enough, once Alfred had watched Ivan's pupil's shrink when they entered the bathroom, he stated, "I guess they are real. And, well, I hope you don't mind it when I say this, but they're so beautiful! You must have the rarest eye color in the world. I can't believe I haven't noticed them before."

At that moment, Ivan didn't know whether to be flattered or annoyed. People did have a tendency to obsess about his eyes a lot, even if most were one hundred percent convinced that they were fact. However, they had been a few individuals who weren't exactly sure that would never stop debating about whether or not they were real. Fortunately though, they wouldn't talk about if they thought he was listening.

Eventually, after spending a long while to admire Ivan's eyes, Alfred finally stated, "I must be the first person to actually believe you, huh?"

"Da, you are the first."

"Well, I'm definitely not about to not believe anyone about things like that. Not with my cowlick that no one aside from my family members believe me about. It's such a long and wide strand of hair, and it never goes down no matter what i do to it."

Ivan couldn't help but become a bit intrigued, "Not even when it's wet?"

"When it's wet, it just droops."

Ivan decided to test what Alfred was saying about his cowlick by placing his finger on the tip of it, and attempting to pin it against Alfred's scalp. When he did this, he noticed that Alfred's cowlick seemed to arch against the pressure. Then, when he let go, the cowlick sprang back up. Then, Ivan stated, "That's really weird."

There was a moment of silence before Alfred finally said, "Well, I have to go and finish up my homework now."

When the conversation had ended, Ivan decided to return to his bed, as his legs were begging for some rest. As he curled up under his covers, he found that despite how light it was in the room, sleep was easy to obtain. There was one thing that definitely brightened the mood for him though. He'd managed to go without any dinner.

* * *

 **A/N: Guys, I have no idea what to make Alfred and Ivan major in. I hate to ask my audience this, but can you guys please give me some suggestions?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: (By the way, I replaced that long author's note with this chapter since I didn't want it to severely mess up the word count).** **Well, I certainly wasn't expecting so many people to care about what I was going through. I mean, twelve people gave long reviews on how much they actually cared in just a few days, which to me means quite a lot. I was expecting people to be angry with me, but instead, I got so much sympathy, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. Thank you so much guys! I know you guys aren't going to be able to see this, but have a hand heart anyways, (apparently, I can't make the symbol for a heart on this site. Oh well).**

 **So yeah, because of the fact that I feel a little better now, because of you guys, I was able to finish typing up this chapter. In fact, you guys deserve daily updates, but I'm too lazy and busy for that, so sorry.**

 **Also, I was thinking about writing weekly one-shots. Not sure how well that is going to go over, but it's just and idea that I might go through with. I might just end up doing two a month instead, or something.**

 **Oh, and to the guest who wanted to know what books I read, I'll just have you know that I'll read almost anything. The genre I read the most is YA. I know people tell me that I should avoid this genre, but I can't help it. Some of my favorite books is Harry Potter (in case you guys are wondering, I'm a Ravenclaw), Warriors, and the list could do on, but I think the list of books I hate would be a lot easier to share. Which I won't share because I don't want to offend anyone.**

 **Anyways, on to the story now.**

* * *

Unfortunately for Ivan, he wasn't necessarily able to say that the rest of his first week of college had gone too well for him. Sure, he had no problem keeping up with his homework and what not, but there was still one major problem he had with one of his classes. He'd been stuck doing a project which required him to work with two other people. At first, he'd been a bit apprehensive about this, as he was not one who enjoyed working with other people; let alone talking to them (even if he did feel lonely at times, speaking to other people was quite nerve racking). Despite his nervousness, he was sure that because everyone around him was now an adult that they would be less judgmental towards him. He wasn't going to lie, for the most part, everyone he came across seemed to be more friendly than the people he had met in high school. Yet there was one person in particular that was not any different from a bully that someone might have met during high school. That said person happened to be one of his group mates.

What made this situation even worse for Ivan was the fact that his group mate actually appeared to be quite friendly at first. However, this deceptive facade quickly vanished when they started working on their project. It appeared that the poor Russian was unable to meet this guy's standards, as every five minutes, he would hear a comment about how he was not doing something right, how he should've paid more attention, or how it was his fault that they were going to be receiving a terrible grade. Sure, perhaps the first two comments wouldn't have disturbed him at all, if it wasn't for the fact that a large strand of insults followed afterwards. Ivan wanted to so desperately believe that this guy was full of it; that he was just being immature and hypocritical, but he couldn't with the expression the man had on his face. His group mate seemed to have an expression of slight worry upon his countenance, mixed with irritation, and the Russian knew that if this guy was just insulting him for the sake of insulting him, he would've had a smirk upon his face rather than that of an expression of severe disapproval. It was the same expression his father would wear every time he'd done something 'wrong' or did something 'disgraceful'.

Despite the scenario turning out so horrible for Ivan, he couldn't help but appreciate the seemingly shy girl who was his other group mate. She hardly ever spoke during the project, and did everything the guy had told her to do; despite looking miserable during that class period. He figured that her obedience was probably the reason why his other group mate had not insulted her. The guy did seem to be a control freak.

Perhaps many people would've been angry with the girl for not standing up against the guy for constantly harassing Ivan. After all, they did say that bystanders had a lot of power. As much as he would've appreciated having someone stand up for him, he couldn't really blame her for not doing so. Even if he thought he hadn't deserved to be torn apart, he simply would not expect someone to do something so brave for him. For one, personal experience had told him that most people were probably either going to be too scared to stand up for him, or wouldn't care in the slightest if he was being treated like the scum of the Earth. Besides, he himself was not a brave individual either, and he'd been responsible for minding his own business when he saw someone being mistreated. He wasn't proud of this, and he definitely wasn't about to call anyone out for being a coward when he himself had been one quite a few times. However, despite the fact that the girl seemed to be extremely shy, he had no idea if she actually did care for what had been happening to him. Sure, she didn't seem to enjoy being around the controlling group mate anymore than he did, but Ivan had no idea whether or not the glances she would pass him were those of sympathy. It seemed to be so, but having a lack of trust for other humans, he still held his suspicions.

Ivan strode across the campus as he continued to think about the insults that had been mercilessly flung at him; dreading the numbness that had become the result of the verbal abuse. Once more, as he passed by the enthusiastic individuals who surrounded him with their gleeful chatter, they seemed to have been completely ignorant to the misery that radiated from his demeanor. The depressed Russian, as always, had no idea whether to feel relieved or lonely because of this.

Before arriving at the dorm, Ivan tried to come up with something to help cheer himself up before meeting with his room mate. If there was one thing he did not want to deal with, it was a concerned Alfred. He'd already worried his poor room mate quite a bit during the first few days they'd known each other, and he was ashamed of that. All he wanted was for his room mate to believe that everything was alright, and that there was never a problem with him to begin with.

Then, he came up with the perfect thought to hide the fact that he was completely devastated with his life at that moment. He realized that Alfred had not questioned his eating habits since Monday, and since showed no signs of feeling concerned. In fact, Alfred seemed to have showed some approval towards what Ivan had decided to eat after the lunch incident. The Russian knew that he would not be able to get away with eating too little around his room mate, so he'd come up with ways to make it look as if he was eating enough, but still consuming a small amount of calories. For breakfast, he would have a small bowl of fiber dense cereal with low-fat milk and an apple. For lunch; a salad with a variety of vegetables and some chicken and vinegar based salad dressing. At first, he'd been reluctant about eating this salad, but he was surprised to find that the chicken tasted excellent with the vinegar based salad dressing. He was aware of the fact that the meal contained a bit more fat that he would've wanted to consume, but he knew that things could've been worse, and at least his room mate was happy with the salad he ate. Lastly, there was dinner, which was much less predictable than lunch and breakfast. Ivan would just try to scrape together anything he thought would not contain too many calories and called it good.

Remembering the fact that Alfred had not grown suspicious of his eating habits during the rest of the week made him feel a bit better. Even though the meals still didn't seem to be enough to satisfy Ivan's hunger throughout the day, as he still hadn't accustomed to eating so little. Besides, the comforting fact still wasn't enough to make him forget about what his group mate had said. Since it didn't seem as if he was going to be over it any time soon, and didn't want to worry his room mate either by not showing up until he finally felt better (which would probably take a while), he decided that it would be best to just pretend that he was fine, and enter his dorm anyways.

Luckily for him, Alfred didn't seem to notice a thing when Ivan walked into the room. Sometimes, the American could be quite oblivious to what was going on around him, which was something that he could appreciate. All Alfred did as soon as he noticed the Russian enter the room was greet him and returned to whatever he was doing. The indifference that his room mate had clearly felt when he entered the room may have offended him at any other time, but Ivan was happy for the lack of interest Alfred held for him at that moment. It would mean that the American was probably not even going to notice him sulking.

Since that seemed to be the case, Ivan decided that it would be safe for him to curl up in his bed, and urge himself to cry. He knew that this was something that his father had forbidden him to do, and that weeping was also something the rest of the world seemed to _really_ have something against, but he'd been holding in the tears for so long. He was growing sick of holding it all in just to satisfy the world's ridiculous standards. Even if it was shamed, he knew that for him, sometimes taking some time out of his day to cry about something was the only way he could forget about it and feel better. It wouldn't be for hours either; just fifteen minutes would do. Then he could focus of finishing up his homework, exercise, and in the long run, end up being in a much better mood than he would've if he had decided to keep it all in.

Ivan curled up under his covers, just to make sure that while he was crying, he would have some warmth in case he began to feel cold due to all of the stress and how drained he was going to end up feeling. Then, he wrapped his arms around his face and started thinking about all of the horrible things that were said to him until tears finally emerged from his eyes. It had taken quite the effort to get himself to start, but once he began crying, he found that it was definitely going to be difficult for him to stop.

At first, Ivan had thought that there would be no way that his room mate would notice that something was wrong. Alfred had seemed so focused on his phone, and the Russian had made sure that he was facing the wall and somewhat hidden under his covers so that it would appear that he was simply trying to hide from the sunlight while attempting to go to sleep. Besides, he'd made sure that his sobs were silent, which was something he'd made sure to become an expert at. He could never risk having anyone hear him when he cried at night. The punishment for that would be much more dire if he was caught crying 'for no reason' than it would be if he starting breaking down during a beating. Once his father had come so close to gouging out his eyes and mutilating his eye sockets; claiming that if he did this, Ivan would have a much harder time crying about everything. At first, no one in the house hold had taken him seriously. They'd just thought that this was another empty threat. That was until his father brought out a pocket knife and started bringing it towards Ivan's face. He was surprised to find that he was able to react just in time to start attempting to push his father's arms away. If he hadn't reacted so quickly, he would've been missing at least one of his eyes. Of course, the rebellious act had only encourage his father to try harder to poke one of his eyes out. In case his father was able to completely over power him, Ivan kept his eyes shut tightly and his head turned away as a last resort for protection.

The only thing that stopped his father that time was when his sisters started pulling him away from Ivan. It was the first time he'd ever seen his sisters use physical force against his father to keep him from being harmed. Fortunately, his father eventually gave up on trying to remove his eyeballs, but he did yell at his sisters afterwards. He didn't try to physically harm them, or even threaten them, though, which Ivan was grateful for. His father never did so much as threaten to physically harm his sisters, but he certainly had something against him. Apparently, it was all his fault that his mother ended up dying, because she would constantly starve herself just to make sure that he was fed. His father had told him that because of this, he himself should starve to death because he was selfish enough to let his mother do so as he 'stole' all of her food. At the time, he was too young to understand what his mother was doing. Sure, he was worried, since he'd almost never seen her eat, and he would ask her to do so at times, but she would always told him not to worry, and that she was still eating; just not when he was awake. Ivan didn't question her further every time she told him that. Although, at the time, he had found it strange that she started eating again at some point. When he was still really young, he had not understood why, but now he knew. She was only eating because she was pregnant, and wanted to be able to make sure that his younger sister survived.

After his younger sister was born, though, it seemed as if his mother was having a lot of trouble feeding not only herself so that she could feed her baby, but also Ivan and his older sister. Having a baby had already put enough strain on her body, but she'd also tired herself out trying to find as much food as she possibly could. By the time his younger sister was two years old, his mother passed away. He remembered his mother looking extremely thin during the last moments of her life, and the harsh life didn't seem to do her so well appearance wise, as she looked ten years older than she really was. Despite this, Ivan would always remember her as looking beautiful. He felt responsible for her death, and sometimes couldn't blame his father for hating him. If he'd only just been more skeptical about what his mother had told him when he was a young kid, he figured that there was a chance that she would've lived.

Thinking about all of these horrible memories only made him feel a hundred times worse (which was an understatement for sure). In fact, he was so upset at that moment that he wanted to start tearing pieces of his own flesh off of his arms. It wasn't as if he'd expected himself to start thinking about some other negative things that had happened in his life, though this didn't surprise him much either. He would often forget that once he started crying, not only would it take him a while to stop, but the reason why this was the case was because once he was upset, he would often become lost in horrible memories. Still, he thought that crying would help.

Despite his attempt to try and hide his distress, however, it didn't seem as if Alfred was going to stay ignorant forever, as soon he heard his room mate ask, "Ivan, what's wrong?"

Before responding, Ivan made sure that he started breathing deeply, and tried to control his sobs as best as he could so that his voice would not waver. Then, after a moment of attempting to regain his composure, he answered, "I'm fine."

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, he heard the violent rustling of sheets; a sign that Alfred was sliding out of his bed and standing up with a lot of haste. While he crawled out of bed and strode towards Ivan, he declared, "Don't bother lying to me. I know you're not fine."

Ivan nearly panicked at the sudden determination his room mate had. In fact, once Alfred was right next to his bed, he sat up so that he could sit against the wall, but still kept his face hidden as he retorted, "I'm not lying. There's nothing wrong with me. Now leave!"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong," Alfred shot back, then added in a softer tone, "I'm sorry if this seems intrusive, but I just want to know what's upsetting you. Maybe I can help. Did someone hurt you? Is that why you're upset?"

"Nyet, it's nothing. Really. It doesn't even matter..."

"It does matter if it's making you this upset. Please, you can tell me. I'm not going to judge you. Besides, if you vent, you might end up feeling a little better."

"Fredka, I don't want to talk about it!"

There was a moment of silence, as Alfred had no idea how to respond to the outburst. Then, he began to feel a bit guilty for having demanded that Ivan shared what was making him upset. The poor Russian didn't deserve to be harassed about it. Especially if he already had hinted out that he didn't want to share what had happened. When Alfred finally spoke, he made sure to not seem so pushy this time, "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Then, before Ivan had any time to react, he was pulled into a hug. At first, he didn't know how to respond to this, but eventually, he decided that he didn't even want to leave the embrace. Instead, he eventually found himself crying into his room mate's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the comforting warmth that was Alfred. His room mate remained patient as he continued to let out all of his stress; even when he became so emotionally distressed, yet trusting in Alfred's presence, and began to vent, "I'm just so sick of feeling so stupid all of the time!"

"You're not stupid, Ivan," Alfred replied in the most soothing voice the Russian had ever heard, "You're probably the smartest person I know, when it comes to math, and that's a really hard skill for a lot of people to be good at. Who ever made you feel stupid is a moron. Don't listen to them."

"But you've called me stupid before, and you're not a moron."

"Actually, Ivan, I was being a moron when I called you stupid."

Based on the fact that Ivan didn't even bother to respond, Alfred could tell that he wasn't at all convinced, but continued to persuade him despite how hopeless changing the Russian's mind already seemed to be anyways, "Look, I lost my temper over something really stupid when I started giving you a hard time that day. There was nothing you did to deserve that, and I had no right, morally, to insult you. Besides, now that I know how good you seem to be at math and school work and what not, it wouldn't even make any sense for me to call you stupid, which is why I know it's not going to happen again. Clearly, you aren't lacking intelligence if you don't have a hard time with your school work. I realize that this is a hard thing for some people to do, but if someone's giving you a hard time, you need to start ignoring them. Especially if that person doesn't matter to you to begin with."

"It's not that easy, though. I had to work with a guy who wouldn't stop giving me a hard time about everything. He wanted everything to be done his way, and he would get angry with me if I didn't agree with him. I know this is a stupid thing to get upset about, but it just gets so emotionally draining after a while."

"It wasn't something stupid to get upset about. I can already tell by how you described this guy that he's a total nightmare, and he's probably a _lot_ worse than what I already know about him. Sounds to me like this guy's a control freak, and kind of immature, to be honest. It would be best to start avoiding him. Nobody needs someone like that in their life."

"I can't. I still have to finish the project with him. It's due next Friday."

"Well, I guess you're just going to have to put up with his crap for another week. Sorry about that. But don't worry, maybe if you keep in mind that he's never going to be worth as much as you, and that he's never going to have a lasting relationship like you, you might end up feeling a little better about this."

The fact that Alfred was giving him this advice only made Ivan want to cry even harder. It wasn't as if he had a father or mother figure to tell him how to handle certain situations in life when he so clearly needed it, or someone to comfort him when he was in desperate need of consoling. Really, he sometimes found it surprising that he wasn't emotionless and actually cared to do something with his life with how neglectful and hateful his father had been towards him. The lack of positive communication did, however, leave him feeling as if he didn't even know how to function in the world, or what was going to be thrown at him. He could tell, though, even with his lack of experience, that Alfred had had loving parents that made sure he was ready for the world. In a way, if made Ivan feel envious, but at the same time, he was grateful for the fact that his room mate cared enough to share what wisdom his parents had provided to him. The Russian didn't even know any adults who would be willing to do this for other grown ups. He thought that everyone was expected to function perfectly in the world around them once they were no longer a teenager. Though the example as to why this wasn't the case was small, he could already tell that this assumption was probably wrong. Alfred wasn't expecting him to be perfect, and not be affected by anything life had to through at him. He was being patient and giving him advice.

By the time Ivan was finally finished draining all of his emotional pain into Alfred's shoulder, the two college students lingered in the embrace as a delightful silence filled the room. While Alfred was still stroking his room mate's soft, light ashen blonde hair, he finally decided to ask once he figured that he was satisfied by the long, calming silence, "You want to go for a walk now? It's very beautiful outside today, and I don't know how much longer we're going to have this nice weather until it starts getting cold out. So we might as well enjoy it while we can."

Since Ivan would never reject an offer for some exercise due to his weight loss plan, he didn't even have to spend one minute to think about his response, "Okay."

With that said, the two of them quickly prepared for the outdoors before heading outside. Despite the fact that it was still late in the afternoon, Ivan couldn't help but feel relieved as a gentle summer breeze brushed past him. The heat wasn't much of a problem either. The only thing that he could think to complain about was how bright it was outside (he kept of forgetting to buy a pair of sunglasses, unfortunately). When it came to the pigmentation of purple eyes, he had no idea whether or not they were supposed to have less than other eye colors, but to him, this seemed to be so. The sun always disturbed his eyes, and meanwhile, Alfred with his blue eyes seemed to be having no problem looking around outside. He didn't even squint when they first stepped outside. Even if he didn't exactly enjoy the fact that he had purple eyes at times, as they had surprisingly done him more harm than good, he sort of wish that he knew more about them. Unfortunately, he knew that this was just another desire that could never be satisfied, as almost nobody in the world believed that purple eyes existed.

They'd only been walking around for what seemed to Ivan to be a half an hour before Alfred finally stated, "I'm starting to get really hungry. Do you want to go get some ice cream?"

"You can go ahead and have some," Ivan replied, "I'm not very hungry."

"Well, okay."

Almost as if Alfred seemed to have naturally known where the nearest ice cream shop was, Ivan found that they were inside of one in almost no time. Though the sweet smell may have tempted him, he had gained some self control over the past few days of successfully limiting his food intake, but was only just able to resist the delicious aroma and find a table to sit down at as he waited for Alfred to buy some ice cream and sit down with him.

Once Alfred had finally sat down with Ivan (there was a long line at the time), the Russian couldn't help but suddenly feel drowsy. He didn't understand why he felt so tired, but at the same time, he didn't really care. It wasn't the type of exhaustion where one felt as if they were being strained or stressed. Rather, it was the type of pleasant drowsiness that left someone feeling dreamy. As if the slightest touch of warmth could allow them to be embraced by blissful sleep. After all of the stress Ivan had went through that week, a long, dreamless slumber seemed to be the best luxury one could ask for. He almost felt as if wanting that was asking for two much, but he could tell that with how he felt, it wouldn't be hard to obtain at that moment.

As Alfred continued to silently lick his ice cream, he couldn't help but observe the Russian as he silently looked at his surroundings. Though soon, he noticed, that Ivan seemed to be growing sleepy. After a while of staring at his room mate, he struggled to keep his own urge to yawn when he saw the light haired individual in front of him do the same. Alfred knew this was strange, but he couldn't help but be somewhat enchanted by the yawn. Unlike most people, Ivan didn't look like a complete idiot when he yawned. On the contrary, it was actually rather cute. Possibly the most adorable thing he'd seen all day. He was nearly mute while he yawned as well, which only made the scene all the more cute.

A warmth suddenly grew in Alfred's stomach. Though he tried to keep some of the adoration out of his voice when he spoke, as he didn't want it to sound as if he was talking to a puppy, "Are you tired?"

Ivan nodded his head, "Yes."

"Then why don't we head back to our room?"

As soon as Alfred stood up, Ivan followed suit. It wasn't too much trouble for the two of them to find their way back to the campus in which their dorm room was, as the American seemed to have remembered the way back from the ice cream shop (Ivan mentally applauded his navigation skills). When they arrived to their dorm room, the Russian quickly brushed his teeth before, once more, curling up in his bed. In minutes, he was sound asleep.

Alfred grabbed his math homework, hoping that he would be able to get it done in a reasonable time, and that his sudden obsession for his room mate would die down (he couldn't already find his room mate attractive, that would probably creep the poor Russian out). He knew that he had a tendency to obtain crushes very quickly, thus why he was very skilled at noticing them almost immediately. It wasn't something that Alfred was proud of, but it was also something that his young self simply couldn't help. He figured that, hopefully, the crush would disappear soon and that he wouldn't have to worry about it any longer. Crushes didn't mean anything; it was Ivan's looks he was attracted to, if he'd only started becoming obsessed with him in one week, and to him, that wasn't love. Sure, he cared for how his room mate felt and what not, but he wasn't fond of the fact that he already had feelings for him. Still, despite the slight shame he felt, Alfred could help but sometimes glance at Ivan's sleeping form. Sleep seemed to be another thing that the Russian was able to pull off easily. He looked absolutely perfect while he did so, and the fact that he was holding onto a clump of his blanket was plain adorable, and unique. Alfred had never seen anyone sleep like this before.

For an entire hour, Alfred was finding it difficult to complete his math homework. Though this time, he knew it wasn't because he was horrible at math.


End file.
